Redemption
by lizresslers
Summary: Paris is a place of dreams and happiness, though for Liz it's a place of almost memories and chances to make new ones with the man she never thought would forgive her. (Set after 1x22)
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Keen sat in the corner of the room, curled up on a small one seater red couch. It was a cold winter night in Paris, the fire was alight and was continuing to drift through the hallways of the large house. It was late at night and many of the houses inhabitants were already asleep.

Red, Dembe and Ressler were already tucked in upstairs, and had been for many hours. Lately, sleeping hadn't been easy for Elizabeth. She had been having constant nightmares about the fire as a child, and the thought of Tom was still crossing her mind. He was dead though. She knew that much.

It had been two weeks since she left the fbi and the task force had been shut down. Ressler had decided to come along with her and Red, as a little bit of a relaxation. He had said himself that the job was his life, and now that the task force was no longer running he had practically nothing to go back to. It had taken a bit of convincing for Red to allow him to come along.

Red had flew them to Paris and to a house he owned on the outskirts of the city. They hadn't been here for long and Red was here on business anyway - doing his own fbi work, but without the fbi.

Elizabeth sighed and looked up from the book sat on her lap. She closed it and lifted her hands up to her eyes, wiping away some of the tears that had fallen during the last few chapters of the book.

She looked down into the fire, crossing her arms across her chest to warm herself up. It would have been a better choice to wear more than a pair of blue plaid pyjama pants and a red shirt to bed. She could have at least worn a sweater.

"You're still awake," a gruff voice sounded from the glass doors separating the room from the lobby. Liz looked up, seeing Ressler.

"Great observation," she said, looking down at the closed book in her lap. She immediately regretted speaking - her voice was croaky from the crying.

Ressler raised his eyebrows and began walking further into the room. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of a black dressing gown. "You okay, Keen?"

She motioned to the book in her lap. "I've been reading, that's why I've been crying," The Book Thief was sat in her lap, looking very worn. "No matter how many times I read it I still cry."

"If you say so, Keen," Ressler frowned, taking a seat on the couch opposite her. She nodded, looking back at the warm fire.

"Why are you awake? Don't you sleep like a log? It's midnight." She asked, shifting her position in the chair. It was tough with him here. Ever since Meera had died he'd blamed her for breaking up the task force.

He shrugged, leaning his elbow on the arm rest. "Probably the same reason you are. Couldn't sleep."

Liz shook her head. "I'm awake because I wanted to read. I can sleep," she said, fiddling with the fluffy brown blanket over her legs. "I just don't want to."

"Why not?" He asked, crossing his legs and leaning further back into the red chair - the same type as the one Liz was in.

Liz stood up, stretching after being sat down for so long. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and yawned, holding the book close to her chest, with the cover facing toward her so Ressler couldn't see what book it was. "I have my reasons," She shrugged.

Ressler rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his messed up strawberry blonde hair. Since it was midnight he didn't have his usual gel coated hair, it was still damp from his shower that he'd had a few hours earlier, and was messy from his small few hours of slumber.

"We have time. What reasons?" Ressler asked, raising his eyebrows at Keen. She began to slowly edge out of the room, not wanting to be alone with Ressler any longer.

Liz frowned and turned around. "Listen, Ressler - I didn't let you come along with me and Red just so you could pressure me into telling you things I wouldn't tell you before. We and our relationship is no different than it was before!"

"Actually, it is," Ressler said, standing up out of the chair, he began to walk over to her and sent her a smile. "You're the reason the task force shut down, you're the reason my life and work practically ended."

Liz looked at the ground, crossing her arms across her chest and holding the book close to her. "I'm aware, you've told me before." She said, looking back up at Ressler. "I know that it's my fault that the task force shut down, so can you please stop telling me."

She looked down at the ground again, taking a deep breath and trying to rid some of her tears. After the task force was shut down she had lost everything too. She had simply gone with Red to get away from some drama for a little while, yet now Ressler was here.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to go to bed now. I'll see you in the morning, Ressler." She said, quickly exiting the living room and making her way upstairs. She spotted Dembe on the balcony at the end of the hallway, he gave her a nod as she entered her room.

It was the same room as all of the rooms in the house - white with red curtains and red bed sheets. It had a bathroom and a wardrobe attached to it as well. It was her own personal sanctuary. Red had personally given her the bedroom with the lock on the door, since he knew she needed as much privacy as she could have.

She clicked the lock on the door and sat the book down on the desk by the door, walking over to the window and looking out of them, overlooking Paris. It truly was beautiful there - the perfect place to escape drama.

Ever since she was little she wanted to visit France, and Sam had told her he would take her, but he never did. "Butterball, when we get enough money I'll fly you to Paris and we can climb the eiffel tower together." He said, every time she brought it up. They never got enough money.

After he was diagnosed with cancer all the money went into helping him get better, but the cancer got worse over time until Red relieved him of his pain. There was still some anger in her heart over Red killing her father, but she now understood why he did it. She just wished she'd been able to see him first.

Liz took a deep breath, swallowing back some of the threatening tears. Even though Paris stopped most of the drama it couldn't stop the tears. She heard the door across the hall close, realising Ressler had gone back to bed.

She crossed the room and picked up her phone from her nightstand to check the time. It was almost 1am. Liz frowned and pulled the sheets of the bed back, sliding underneath the sheets and closing her eyes.

She greeted sleep as quickly as she allowed the light of the morning to wake her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Written by "noimnotgoingwithoutyou" on tumblr.**

"I'll just have the chocolate brioche and a Viennese coffee thank you," Lizzie smiled up at the dark haired waiter, silently thanking him for giving her a detailed explanation of her menu.

Surely the cafe would include English ones by now right?

She heaved a sigh. Red had insisted she visit the "Cafe De Flore" for breakfast. She wasn't too keen on travelling across the crowded city to have one simple meal, but she wasn't too keen about arguing with him either, so she just threw on fresh clothes, tamed her messy locks and got in the already waiting car. He could have at least told her what to order, knowing that the menu was in french and she couldn't even utter a proper "good morning" in the language, much less for reading and understanding an entire 3 pages of it. But she had to admit (and it had nothing to do with him basically throwing her into the car) that it was pretty cozy.

Leaning back, she folded her arms around herself and closed her eyes. She hasn't felt this relaxed in a while. Its been too long.

The sun was especially warm this morning, and it all but made her want to lose herself in it's radiance, escaping the world of troubles by a ray of light. The streets were bustling with the long lines of traffic and tourists touring the sites; it was noisy, yet oddly comforting.

She gazed across the avenue, noticing a scanty hut on the corner selling postcards. She instantly thought of buying a few and mailing them to her friends, maybe relate to them her adventures in the city of love, but she expelled those thoughts as soon as they were formed into her head.

She had no friends.

That thought made her physically shudder; When did she ever get this lonely?

She was -thankfully- drifted out of her distasteful introspection by a sweet smelling aroma, wafting through the air and into her nostrils, causing her mouth to water just a bit. Twisting her head, she only then noticed her breakfast already sitting on the table, staring back at her with all its delicious glory.

Immediately she dug into it, savouring every taste and god, this was the best thing she's ever put into her mouth.

"This seat taken?" a deep, familiar, very familiar voice interrupted her revere.

She quickly glanced at the tall figure, taking a mental note of the meager frown on his pale face and his scrunched eyebrows; muscles drew the skin around his eyes tight. Someone had trouble sleeping last night.

She just shook her head as he settled into the wooden chair opposite hers.

"What are you doing here, Ressler?" she asked. It can't be a coincidence that he showed up for breakfast in the exact same cafe that she was situated at.

"Red told me where I can find you." Definitely not a coincidence.

Her eyebrows raised at that. "You were looking for me?"

After their minor debacle two nights ago, they haven't even spared a glance at each other. From an outsider, it would look as if they're just a couple of normal friends, maybe more, having breakfast in a Parisian Cafe. But oh it was different, so different from that illusion. Put the two of them together in a room, much like right now, and you can cut the tension with a knife, it was that bad.

He's angry with her, she knows that much. Like he blatantly stated that night, she was the reason the task force shut down, that the most important part of their lives ended, the only important part of his life ended.

She avoided his gaze, busying herself with the pastry on her plate.

"I was" he simply stated, eyes not leaving her face. She didn't have to look up to know he was staring at her with those piercing hazel eyes.

She shifted uncomfortably. Clearing her throat, she asked "Wher- Where is red?"

Her attempt at changing the topic isn't missed by him, but he goes along with it. "He uh, said something about visiting an old friend in a French bar on the other side of the city."

She looked at her watch as her eyebrows knit together. "A bar? At nine thirty in the morning?"

He shrugged. Red was definitely a strange man.

She hummed and drank her coffee silently, trying her best to make the sidewalk look seemingly interesting.

Hearing him sigh and shift closer to her from his chair, she turned towards him, observing the soft but pensive expression on his face, the way he leaned forward on the table, the way his hand come to rest an inch away from hers.

"Look Kee- Liz," he corrected himself promptly. He knew how much she hated him or anyone calling her keen anymore. They knew why.

"I just lost my job. The only thing that mattered to me anymore, you know that because you heard me say it," he swallowed as she took a deep breath, "And I've been thinking about everything…everything that's happened in the past year, especially the past month. My job and my life crumbled before me, and there was nothing I could have done about it. So I started doing the only thing my manly pride would allow me to do. I started blaming you," he paused, slightly hesitant to go on.

She tilted her head, motioning for him to continue.

"The thing is, I only thought about myself. I only thought about my pain, my hurt, my life. I directed all my anger towards you. I didn't think about what you had to deal with, what you were going through. I just assumed you were a part of it, that you were screwing us all over, and now I realize how much of a freaking asshole I probably was to you, still is.." his voice trailed off, guilt radiating out of him like smoke did in a wildfire.

She sat up a bit straighter, searching his eyes for any tell of deceit, any sign that this may as well be a joke for him.

She found none.

Her eyes swiftly travelled to the middle of the table where his large, callused hands now covered her much smaller ones. Feeling his warmth against her skin, spreading throughout her, making her tingle a bit inside.

"What I'm trying to say here Liz, is that I'm sorry, terribly sorry" his eyes pleading with her to understand, to forgive him because dammit he doesn't want to be like one of those guys in her life that hurt her, that broke her. He wants her to trust him, to share things with him.

Her jaw muscles jumped as she considered his words. She likes Ressler, she honestly does. He's simple and cares easily; he's just too goddamn difficult to understand. But he was a good friend to her, especially when her life was shredding to pieces by both the man she was supposed to trust with her life, and the man she came to trust for the past year. It wasn't much, but he was there. And even though they've not been on good terms for the past few days, she doesn't hate him.

She gently stroke his thumb and gave him a half smile.

Pushing her chair back, she pressed down some cash under her plate "Come on, I have something to show you".

His expression cooled ten degrees as he fell in line behind her retreating form.


End file.
